Ravens Rants
by Constr1cted
Summary: This story is really a mixture of lots of things put together. Some of it are ideas from Perfect Chemistry, the book. Some of it from NANA, the manga, and some of it from my own head.
1. Chapter 1

What would happen if I tell my parents I refuse to take care of their broken relationship, which clearly has no hope, and decided that I want to be sent away to a foster home? Nothing good, I'm guessing. But it was worth convincing myself for just one second that I'm not responsible for what happens between them... Right? Right.

I mean, don't they ever get tired from arguing about the same thing, over, and over, and over again? It has to at _least_ be physically impossible to have your mouth running for_ that _long. On second thought, I'll tell you exactly what's impossible: My brother not waking up any minute... Aaaand there goes that famous squeal. "Raven! Don't you hear your brother crying?! Go take him outside, please! Your father and I are in the middle of a crucial discussion." Discussion? Is that what she calls it? Seriously, how long can someone remain in denial befo - "Raven!" goes Mother again, interrupting my thoughts, as per usual. "I'm coming! Jeez.." I threw on my most recently bought American Eagle Jeans as quickly as possible. It was the only clean thing I have left from my "Super-Duper-Hill-Clothes," that's what I'd like to call it. It really is a work of art. Took me three months to perfect that baby. And if my mother dares to even think about ruining it, because it just so happens to not be as perfectly lined and neat as she would want it, she'll end up having yet another person to have her "crucial discussions" with.

I was really hesitant to go into my brothers room. I always am when he's crying like this. If there's one thing I despise, it's having to see my brother upset in any way. It's a miracle to think that even such an angel can be related to such a witch. It most be impossible, I mean, I have this well-thought-out theory that the nurse handed her the wrong baby when Mother gave birth. I had to go into that room, I had to get my brother out of here for at least until my parents cool off. Not only because I hear Mother charging up to the room right now, but because even though there is no hope left for the rest of the family, there is some hope left for him. I'd do anything to make him happy. Yes, even watch another Barney episode with him, regardless of the fact that that purple monster gives me the Eebi Jeebies. I don't know about the rest of the kid-humanity, but I personally believe that show belongs under the Horror Section, strictly reserved for people who had part of their brain permanently removed.  
I feel Mothers eyes leering down my back. "How about some arcade, Ethan? We can play Tekken, your favorite. Just you and me. Whaddya say?" I force the most pretentious, nerve-wrecked smile. Thank goodness children can't read these things. She's probably thinking about how much she wishes I was like my cousin Nicole, this bimbo cheerleader who has straight A's, and dresses like it's her birthday everyday. She always puts on this facade that everything about her and her life is flawless, and it's all thanks to her presence. Doesn't she ever just want to through away that fake personality of hers, and get comfortable in this world? I don't know how people like her manage to survive. My mother probably has such vengeance towards God for not creating a daughter who does everything right, and nothing wrong. I really wish Mother would stop watching those stupid mindless shows; they give her such a distorted image of mother-daughter relationships. She's very fortunate that I do not take her, "You are never good enough" crap personally. Because otherwise, she wouldn't have me confident and mature enough to take care of her shit for her. I mean, what the heck is everyone's deal with being perfect?

My brother doesn't look as excited to go as usual. Maybe he's outgrowing the arcade phase already? Na, couldn't be, he's only five. I would've been fooled though, he's the most mature child I have ever encountered. And these days, that's very hard to find. I mean, you see a bunch of 1st graders with IPods, and cell phones now, thinking they are so cool because they're wearing pokemon shirts and will bully you if you look funny. But can you blame them? Look who they have as role models. Adults who care about the most superficial, pointless things. You see, this is another reason my brother is a miracle child. Look at what kind of people he has as "role models." You'd think he'd be angry and demand more attention. Nope, not him. He'd be happy even if you give him a lollipop for his birthday, as long as you come over to keep him company. And whenever I ask him if he wants me to buy him a new toy car, or some action figures, he just smiles awkwardly, puts his hands behind his back and says, "No tanks, Wayven.." I love spending time with him, I love taking him away from the hell hole he is forced to call home. If I didn't have a million responsibilities about to drown me, I would spend all my time with him, teaching him how to succeed in life. "You see how mommy and daddy are? If you ever wanna be a good man when you grow up, don't ever be like them, promise?" He would look so serious, cleaning his fist in the air, responding, "Pwomise! I pwomise Wayven!" He is so adorable sometimes, that he deserves his own show, focusing on just how adorable he is. I wish I can show him how much I love and appreciate him more. Without him, I'd have no sanity in my life. He gives me hope. I wish I could hug him more, and shower him with affection, but I just can't. There's always something stopping me. And whenever I try to make sense of it, I just stumble myself upon way too many thoughts, and go overload. I rather not think about why. I'm perfectly fine being oblivious to lots of things going on in my life. Like the fact that summer is almost over.

We walked back home and arrived by super time. It seems to be quiet, so it's safe to go back. We sit by the table, and eat our dinner quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

Ugh! Ok, back to reality. Summer is over, and when I didn't spend my time having exclusive, therapy sessions with my parents, I spent my time training. Training for my boxing team, training for my piano lessons, training my body to be toned and fit, and studying random information, just in case it ever comes up in class. I mean I am entering a whole new world- second year of college. It's always good to be three steps ahead of where people expect you to be at. Truth be told, I really feel like I need to be this way. I need to have my life on track, because I'm scared to think that if for one second, I let go of my control, well... there goes my life. Perhaps I should squeeze in some Grave Preparations, just in case I do end up dying this year. Because if there is one place I am not too excited to go to, it's Preston University, or what I'd like to call, "Couldn't Get More Dangerous Than This." Everyone there could seriously get together and make up their own dictionary. I mean, they'd swear to their life that bad actually means good, by normal definition. Sluts are dateable, virgins are gross, or what they call, "the untouchables." Showing up in class with homework means you're a failure, a loser. And everyones day only begins at night. If you're confused, that's ok. That makes two of us.

I was on my way to class, and I felt like there was something huge stamped on my forehead. Why are all these people staring at me?? Yes, I look different this year from last, but so what? "Ravey!! I missed ya boo," calls out Mike, who's running towards me in the most cutest way ever. I'm so glad to see him, I almost yelped and jumped from joy. If I didn't have him in my life, I don't know what I'd do! No, he is not my boyfriend. Forunately, he's gay, so that saves me from so much tension and awkwardness. I don't do relationships, under any circumstances. Couldn't be another pointless concept made in this world. Which sane girl can trust a guy, in a matter of days, and be like, "Right now, I'm veeery vulnerable, and you make my heart skip beats. Let's date till we break each others hearts, so we can walk away and call it experience!" Even Mike doesn't have that much luck with men, actually, he's the perfect example of what I'm talking about. He has so much boy trouble, that I can't even keep up with his Boyfriend Updates anymore. And honestly, I don't think Mike can either. I'm so tempted to give him one of my lectures, but I was warned. Grey made me promise I'd never do that to him, by her very own words, "Mike would probably cry and drown the earth with his tears, Raven. You cannot state your opinions, face it, you're just not sensitive in this topic." She's right, I know it. So whenever Mike tells me about another new lover who wears spandex and makes his hair stand, I just smile and nod. I have trained myself to do this too. Smile and nod, smile and nod..

"Ravey, you have no idea what happened," he says, with a face expression that looks far too familiar. He's such a walking ironic nut, he has the most masculine voice, but the most perkiest personality. Kind of like Nicoles. "Let me guess, you have a new boyfriend you're madly in love with, and see yourself marrying. You can't stop thinking about him, and he's so different from the rest," I said, trying not to be too harsh, so I added a laugh at the end. I hate when people do that to me. "How'd you know?? Ok, his name is Xavier, doesn't that sound so exotic? And I met him at this really cool party hosted by..um...," he trailed off. I know that he thinks he'd hurt my feelings if he went to my arch nemisiss' party, but I couldn't care less. Honestly. I wish people would stop thinking I'm so uptight. "Brit's party, yes, go on." He looked so shocked, "You're not mad? I thought you hated her guts."

"I do hate her guts, Mikey, but I love yours. And I don't care, as long as you enjoy yourself. And as long as Brit keeps her hands away from you, of course."

"Ok so anyways, Xavier. He was all like, 'you are so hot.' and I was all like, 'oh stop it, you're the sexy beast here.' and we hooked up, and after the party, we were sitting by the curb talking about The Milkways. Turns out we have the same taste in music." Smile and nod, Raven. Do it. Keep a straight face, just smile and nod.

"You hate him already, dont you, Raven?" Darn it. Mike caught me. I thought I nailed that technique by now.

"No I don't, really. He seems like a nice guy and all, just-"

"Just what, Raven?! Come on, I'm not that emotional! I can take it like a man!" Mike looked so helpless, he almost looked like a puppy. I glared at him. I know he caught on. "Ok, maybe I am that emotional," he said, so disappointedly, like I just took his puppy treats away, "but he really IS different, I swear!"

"I'm sure he is Mikey, I don't dislike him. I just don't want you crying over another loser again, that's all."

"Oh my gosh, he's right there," his face was beaming, "Xavier, come over, I wanna introduce you to someone!" I glanced at the guy Mike was pointing at, and I already don't like him. Why did he have to be here at the moment? How much longer do I have to play pretend for? There is only so much fake I can do in one day!

"Hey boo. This is Raven, my best friend since ninth grade. And Raven, this is Xavier," Mike looked uneasy, and I think it's because he is wishing on every star he has ever known, that I play nice. It's difficult, but I'll throw in that extra mile for Mike.

"Raven...? It's like...uh... what do you call those things, that uh... you know, flap wings, and.." he looks completely stoned, on some serious drugs. Good taste, Mike, it has definitely evolved.

"A bird. Yes."

Ohhhhh yeah! Halleluiah, Praise the Lord! I see Grey coming towards our direction, with her two year boyfriend, James. If there is any couple that would last forever, it would be them. But of course, they're only amazing in their own weird way. "Hey Shrimp," James calls out with a smirk on his face. He loves teasing me for my lack of height. But I don't care, it doesn't phase me. I always tell them, 'I know I'm not short, everyone else is just abnormally tall.' "Hi Lobster," I crack myself up. We do our funny handshake that no one else has ever mastered. It's something we made up back when I was finally starting to accept that he will be a permanent part of Greys' life. Yes, we were actually best friends before he ever existed, and now, I cannot picture her being single. It was so hard for me to acknowledge the fact that I won't be number one anymore, but I had to let it go. I always do in the end anyway. "Lobster? Cute Raven, very cute," Grey says, smiling not with her lips, but with her face. She knows how to do that somehow, and everytime she does, I feel so giddy inside. I know I sound like a lesbian right about now, but I promise I'm not. We just have a really interesting friendship, that's all. It's kind of funny watching Grey around James. For someone who is completely cold and distant, is such a mush ball when it comes to James. It makes me sick sometimes. I mean, did you ever hear about keeping all that stuff exclusively between your partner? All right, fine, I'll admit it. In a sense, I love watching them completely alter their personalities for each other. It's as if their true self comes out, something they always hide amongst other people. It's as if they are one, and not two seperate beings. Wait, is this coming out from my head? If I could, I'd stab my brain right about now.

"Did you hear about our new English teacher?" Grey finally distangled herself from James, letting him talk to the guys while we slowly parted away. "Another one? I'm afriad Mr Fischer is eventually going to run out of people to ask for that position."

"Could be, but I heard that she's from Uptown. Rich. Spoiled. Ugh.. all these new teachers to adjust to constantly... it's starting to get just slightly annoying."

"I say we skip. I want to go see how my brother's doing, buy him some lunch. I need to talk to you anyway."

There's no one in this world that knows me better than Grey, not even myself. Who in the world, besides her of course, with a functioning brain would have the patience to hear my rants and rambles about everything and nothing? She's calm and laid back, despite her tough looking appearance. I don't think she owns anything that looks even remotely alive. Everything she wears is either torn, faded, destroyed somehow, and dark. And despite that too, she is what I call Drop Dead Gorgeous. Slim, tall. And even though she's very pale, her skin is consummate. Not one pore or pimple would dare pop on her face. Her hair, just like her clothes, is very dark. She cut it recently to right above her chin, just long enough to pull it behind her ears. And even though I'd never have the guts to cut my hair off like that, I still totally respect her risk taking nature. She is not scared of anyone or anything. Her almond shaped eyes are hazel, and hollow. Trying to depict her mood is quite impossible, even for James. She has these two scars on her face that complete her look, as if it was predestined to be that way. She never told me where those scars came from, except about the fact that she had them as a kid, but I never dared to ask her. If there's one thing she loves doing openly, it's story-telling. She has an incredible way of recapping what goes on in her life, you almost feel like there's not one person who wouldn't be able to relate. You can paint the pictures running in your head, as the words flow right out of her mouth, sentence by sentence. But it seems the more she tells them, the more mysterious she seems to be. Like the fact that I rarely ever come over her house, and when I do, no one is ever home. It always reeks from alcohol and ciggerates though, and again, I don't dare ask. We never stay there for too long anyway.

"Why don't we pick up Ethan with Father's bike?" Gray asks as she picks a ciggerate from her pocket.

"I don't think it's a great idea.. Don't wanna scare the kids away, ya know." Her fathers bike does not have one bare spot that isn't covered with skulls. They're plastered everywhere. It's also broken. Everytime she would turn on the engine, heavy metal music would start blaring, and there's no way to turn it off. Besides, I would never want Ethan to be around that thing, it's enough that he cries because of my parents quarreling. I wouldn't want him to cry from nightmares too.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's just walk then. We have plenty of time." She started telling me yet another story of just how perfect her and James are. It always makes me wonder if I'll ever find someone so perfect for me. But I already concluded before, I will never get married. Might as well become a doctor when I grow up and make my office my home. At least I'll be saving lives rather than creating yet another broken home. It would be a more meaningful life.

When we finally got there, I noticed how everyone in the class were playing around, eating snacks, while Ethan sat quietly in the back corner, concentrating on what was going on outside the backyard of the school through the window. What's up with him lately? I was starting to wonder if five year old can really be diagnosed with depressed. I asked the teacher if he can be excused for a little, and when she nodded her head, Ethan came running towards us, in almost a split of a second. "Wayven! Gway!" He gave us such a tight hug around our legs, it's as if he hasn't seen us in ages. "Where is Mike?" He says, while pouting his tiny lips. Ethan loves Mike. Mike has never failed to have Ethan rolling around laughing, or making him comfortable enough to speak about his day or the random picture books he read with Mike. What can I say, Mike is just made to be a pretend older brother. I love him for that too, because sometimes I feel the same way. Mike was always there for me when I had emotional breakdowns, joking his way through so that maybe I could smile for just one bit. We always had sleep overs, watching movies that Ethan would pick out, staying up late and talking about nothing important at all. He always helped me stop thinking too deeply into things. And I appreciated his simple nature. "Mike's in school right now, but you might see him later on," that is, if he's not too busy smooching that new punk boyfriend of his. I gave Ethan his lunch, gave him one last hug and kiss, and watched him walk away very slowly back to his seat. He seemed to have no interest on the food, and was lost into space again, looking out that same window.


	3. Chapter 3

I parted ways with Grey. She decided to ditch the entire day and go to the city to our favorite bookstore where she sits on her special spot and reads graphic novels the entire time. It was our ritual back in high school to cut school and go there. It might sound very lame, but it was very special. Before her, I never did go to the city, I really had nothing to do there. And no one to go with. But she introduced me to so much stuff, including graphic novels itself. She got me in touch with my artistic side, a side that was very hidden deep down, behind all these walls of constant work and pressure. The first time we went to the city, it felt serene. I never felt so in touch with life before. What I loved most were all these lights beaming, all the people looking so different and unique, you would never cross ways with the same exact person again. I loved how busy it was, how the city just never slept. How everyone had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, somewhere they belonged and it just fitted all together. There were all kinds of places, all kinds of things to do. It seemed like there was no way a person can be bored or lonely. And then we went to that bookstore, the special one. And I swear, I've never been to a happier place in my life. It's not that I'm THAT obsessed with books or anything, it's just the environment, the people who were there. The types of events that occurred, and of course, the graphic novels. We would constantly exchange our books when we'd be done, giggling and fitting characters to whom we felt were most like the people in our lives. The graphic novel we most related to was Nana, we almost swore that the book was made just for us. Everything about it was like nailed to the point of what goes on in our lives. But the bookstore was not the only placed we'd go to, of course. We went to the biggest Toys R Us there is known to men, and spend all day putting on random costumes, and getting in touch with our inner child. We also frequently when to this huge Disney store, where we took pictures with Mickey Mouse and Pluto, playing random arcade games, and just getting lost with fans who loved the same things we did. Not to mention the countless movies we spent our money watching, I still have all the tickets to them. We would always discuss it after it was done, spending hours talking about the ethics of it, the characters, and how it relates to life. But lately, it seems like we are starting to fall apart. And it's been playing a toll on me. So instead of trying to fix it, I just like to ignore things like that. It works out great for me all the time.

I was on my way to my boxing team. This is the part of the week where I look forward to the most. This is where I feel completely in control. No squirming parents getting on my last nerve, no boy drama, no babies crying, no school to worry about. It's just me and myself. When I came in, I noticed there were a few changes in the gym. The place looks more torn apart than usual. The lights are dimmer, the walls are all covered with graffiti. The equipment looks worn out, not to mention that half of them are missing. But I must admit, the guys this year look tougher. Ha, this is definitely going to be fun. There are new faces here, and they are giving me the usual first-impression-stare of, "what the heck is a chick doing in here?" But it doesn't phase me, not as much as it used to at least. I remember how it first felt like signing up for the team. Everyone thought I was a big joke. But I didn't hear anyone laughing when I was pressing more weights than them. Coach and I have a very intense relationship, he never has mercy on me. Sometimes I think it's just because I'm a girl, but then I realize that Coach just cares too much about me. "See ya kiddo, stay safe," is what he'd always tell me when I'd leave after staying overtime practicing with him. It was tough at first, I mean, to catch up with where everyone was, but I sure proved everyone wrong. I love that feeling of plain victory. The type of victory that leaves everyons jaw half cracked. It made me all giggly inside.

As I was about to walk towards the tredmil I signed up for, this dark haired, broad, tall, mean looking freak almost cut me off.

"Um.. excuse me? Yeah. That's mine," I said, really pissed off. Things aren't going my way today, and if he thinks he can start with me, he'll be really sorry.

"I don't think so, chica," he said, getting slightly too comfortable by resting his elbow on the wall, glaring down at me, "Perhaps you're in the wrong place, gymnastics is just right next door."

Oh, that's it. He hit me on the spot.

"No, actually, you're in the wrong place. This tredmil is mine. I signed up for it," I said, as I was taking the clipboard that was laying on the side, shoving it on his face. I think I was starting to feel the glorious sense of victory coming along. He gave me a distorted looking smirk, it gave me the creeps. Luckily he walked away. I blasted my music full force when I started my warm up, and I felt such a relief. All the chills started running through every single muscle on my body, and I felt an adrenaline rush. I feel invincible right now, a feeling I rarely ever encounter. The music is soothing my skin and I feel every drip of my sweat, every movement of my body. Why can't life always be this peaceful?

Coach called us up, it's time to do our dreadful "introduction discussion." We state our names, where we come from, and why we're here. There's only ten of us here, which I love. I hate when the place gets too crowded. I make myself comfortable by my backpack.

"This year we're having a change of plans. Instead of me working individually with you, I want you guys to start pairing up and learning how to gain from each other. This will only last for a few weeks, so don't get too excited," clearly realizing how upset every one of us was, I hated his sarcasm, it always pierced my heart, "and yes, you're going to get assigned. I grouped you specifically with a person whom I thought would work best with you. Rafael, you're paired up with Brandon. Shane, you're paired with Nathan. Gabriel, you're paired up with Raven, Steven, you're with Michael, and Luis, you're with Eddy." I turned around to look at who this Eddy was. And all I see is that freak waving his hand at me, giving me his 5 star grin. Great. I hate working with people, especially snobs. I can't wait to go home to my calender, so I can label this day as The Worst Day of My Entire 19 Years of Breathing. Why, out of all people, even if there aren't many, am I teamed up with this arrogant asshole? Whatever, I'm going to get a grip of myself. I'm going to let him know who the boss is, and what's going down. And as soon as I'm done with him, I'm out.

"Guess you got very lucky, shorty," he folded his arms, leaning his shoulder against the wall, "But before we start, I just wanna know, what's a pretty chick like you doing in a place like this?" He clearly finds this very amusing. Little does he know I have a very short temper today.

I stared him right dead in the eye, "Listen, hun. I don't really have much patience today. Lets get this done and over with, so I can go home peacefully. I will only answer questions that are related to how you position your arms, and how you punch. Anything else, is not your business. If you're ready, let me know. If not, we can always do this another time."

He arched his left eyebrow up, "Oh, so it's like that? All right all right, I'll stop kidding around. Now what do you wanna know about boxing?" I think he's confused, last time I checked, he's the beginner here.

"I know what I need to know. This is your first day, which automatically puts me as authority, in case you were in any way confused," I smiled deceitfully, "now, let's start in the beginning. What you need to know is how to position yourself in battle mode, and how you move," I said, while demonstrating it. He is looking at me like I'm retarded, "What? Do we have a problem here?" Even though I'm really pissed off, I'm so glad I'm taking it out on this guy as opposed to anything or anyone else, so I'm slightly thankful. Just slightly. "I always hated girls like you. Girls who feel like they need to prove something. Why are you so uptight for? Just chill." Suddenly this guy is pretending like he got me all figured out. And I'm suddenly starting to feel like I'm complete losing control of myself. I let out a huge sigh, braced myself, and spoke in monotone, which I love to do. It always kills the conversation. "Anyways, let's move on. We have things to do."

When the time was over, I grabbed my bag, and checked to see if I got any missed calls. I got very nervous when I saw that there were 10 missed calls, and 3 new voice-mails. I despise voice-mails, they make me feel so anxious and awkward, that sometimes I just leave them there for months. But when I saw that the missed calls were from home, I knew it was my brother. I had to listen. "Wayven!! You have to come home pwease, mommy and daddy are arguing again and I'm scared." Ugh.. , "End of message, September 10th, 4:07 PM. New message, Wayven! please hurry up! they are starting to get violent," I hear my mother's voice in the background yelling, I hear loud things being slammed and thrown... ok, just calm down, Raven. This is nothing new. They are probably calm by now... just skip your average walk and take the bus home. I did not want to hear the third one, I just didn't have the heart to hear my brother wrenching sobs again. As I was starting to leave, Gabriel called out, "hey, can I get your number, in case you ever wanna talk or anything," I feel bad as I'm saying this, but I really don't have to care, "No. I'm busy, see ya later." I started running towards the bus.


End file.
